Surface Reading
by Pivot
Summary: Armada: Sparkplug meant to bring another Minicon home safely. Some people have other ideas - starting with Oceanglide.


_Disclaimer: I own neither Minicon nor Autobot, nor any part of the late beshredded Exodus. Megatron is right out._

_Sea Team troublemaking, again. Also Sparkplug. Again, all comments much appreciated._

* * *

**Surface Reading**

Even from Optimus Prime's shoulder, Sparkplug could see they were onto something. It had taken Scavenger and Smokescreen a while to break through the rocky shell, but once the opening appeared, they knew the effort was worth it.

From his vantage point, Sparkplug looked around the tunnel big enough to comfortably fit all the Autobots peering round it. The sides were far more regular than most of the caves he'd seen on this planet. Big, and neat… and metal.

"What is this place?" Hot Shot wondered, following them and Scavenger in.

"It looks like part of the Minicon ship," Optimus said. He looked up and around the partially crushed passage, then exchanged a look with Scavenger."It must have broken off during the crash and landed here."

"This far from our base?"

"It's been a million years, Hot Shot," said Red Alert. "The ground shifts if you leave it long enough." The science officer moved forward past Optimus, looking down where the tunnel – the corridor – sloped unevenly downward, the floor buckled and twisted. "My readings indicate that the Minicon signal is coming from further inside."

Sparkplug looked around as Smokescreen strode inward, cheerful determination written all over his face. "Well, let's get in there and find it!"

Autobot and Minicon alike jumped and looked around as a distant explosion rumbled through the rock and metal around them. The echoes of the blast rolled up through the mouth of the tunnel ominously.

Scavenger frowned, staring back at the opening. "What's going on out there?"

"The Decepticons," Hotshot growled, starting to go back.

_But what are they shooting at?_ Sparkplug wondered.

The entrance of the cave exploded inward in a blast of light and sound. Hotshot was knocked to the floor. Sparkplug flattened himself on Optimus's shoulder, ducking chunks of flying stone. When he looked up, dust hung in the air and Megatron stood in the widened opening, the other Decepticons behind him.

"Forgive me for bursting in," Megatron announced, optics fixed on Optimus. "I decided to let a little light in here."

Hot Shot picked himself up, glaring at the Decepticon leader. "You're not getting the Minicon this time."

Optimus's head swivelled to look at the Minicon on his shoulder. The dust gathering on his armour from the blasted rock scattered into the air from the motion. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Sparkplug nodded. The Autobot leader set him down on the floor, ignoring Megatron for a moment. "Take the other Minicons and search inside. We'll hold the Decepticons off."

Sparkplug beeped an automatic confirmation at him, sliding from the fingers beneath him and hiding his nervous expression. The sound of Hotshot tackling Demolisher made him spin and stare at the scene for a moment.

"Go!" Optimus reminded him. The Autobot turned and straightened in time to catch a blow from Megatron on his arm.

"Sending your own Miinicon to safety?" Megatron laughed harshly. "You fool! Leader-One!"

That was it. Sparkplug didn't wait around. He sprinted clear, skidding down the torn slope until the laser fire was well above his level and the shouts began to sound muffled.

The yellow Minicon slumped slightly and looked back up at the battlezone. He didn't want to leave his partner's side, but Optimus was right. And he couldn't just stroll back into the firefight.

_So much for 'any objections?' _he thought, looking around as Liftor, Long Arm, Jolt and Rollbar slid and scrambled down to join him. Time to take the lead, ready or not.

He gave them a nod, and they hurried into the darkness.

* * *

Technically, the mind was the last thing to be reactivated – all the conversion and decompression and reconstruction took place first, so by the time you came online again your body was already active. It was the last thing he'd been thinking about when he went into stasis, the first thing he was thinking when he woke up.

This was convenient, because he'd actually been wondering how it would feel, and here he was finding out before he'd finished the thought.

Theory aside, it still felt like he'd been rolled out into sheet metal and then sprung back into shape. Because he was expecting it to, or was there a physiological element? He wondered.

It was certainly disorienting. The peculiar energy fields of the stasis tech played and interfered with his sensors as they rebuilt them. For a few long seconds, he saw only swarming colours and edges; his armour tingled as if touched by a tuning fork; his audios were full of rushing static.

And he hadn't even turned his sensors _on_ yet.

He stood there for a couple of moments after the din faded, optics still off, trying to pin down and remember the exact details of the experience.

"Hello? Are you all right?"

Hmm. From the sound of it, he'd landed the inexperienced medic. Oceanglide sighed, and powered up his optics.

His first impression was that it was much darker than he'd expected. Far too dark for a medbay. It looked roughly like the interior of the ship they'd left on – but he could feel the dust underfoot and see it rising around them. The air smelt stale, and the room ahead was lined with information terminals and data banks – no medical equipment he could recognise.

No _other Minicons_, come to think of it. Except for the one who'd spoken…

Oceanglide swung around slightly to examine him. Yes, he was young, bright yellow armour, some odd type of car transformation, not holding anything medical either. He looked nervous – and tense in a way that suggested more than inexperience at work.

_This does _not _reassure me._

Ah well. He'd find out what was going on. Then he would find his team. Then… he could begin his work.

"I seem to be fine," he assured the other Minicon, stepping forward and examining the missile launcher on his left arm. The rematerialisation didn't seem to have affected it, but the medics had safely deactivated the warhead itself before letting him into stasis. The only weapons he could use were energy-based. "Where is everyone?"

The stranger shook his head. "Not here. Come on, we've got to get moving." He hurried off down one of the aisles of shelving. Oceanglide followed, but not without a glance to see what lay behind them. Just another wall… with a rent down its length, and rock pressing through the torn metal. He frowned, and considered his guide with renewed concern.

His joints were a little stiff – odd, when to him they'd been fine a minute ago - but he kept up and kept close. "What happened?" he asked keeping his voice just audible over their footsteps.

"The ship crashed," his new friend replied, just as softly. "We escaped Cybertron, but we've been out for a million years, and now we're scattered. I'm Sparkplug," he added, in what was probably meant to be a friendly tone.

_Somewhat important. Broadcast a couple of speeches, more than any other Minicon since the war started. You put out the call for the Exodus…hm. Interesting. _"Oceanglide." He watched Sparkplug's face for any sign of recognition. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved when it didn't come.

"What is this place?" he queried, looking around as he followed.

"Huh? Oh… it's a library. Long Arm realised when we got the lights working. These are just the public terminals accessing the ship's databanks. We… tried to bring as much as we could."

"Autobot material?"

"Some of it. But mostly Minicon."

Oceanglide knew very well how his optics brightened at that. "Really? That _is_ impressive! I wonder if the data banks are intact…" There was a terminal beside him, and he suddenly itched to take a look at it.

Sparkplug laughed quietly. "That's the least of our worries right now. The Decepticons followed us here. That's why we have to get out before they find us."

Oceanglide looked up at his back sharply, one hand jerking away from the terminal. "And you have a plan?"

"Yeah." Sparkplug peered around a corner. "There's a team of Autobots waiting outside. Once we meet up with the others and get out to them, we can warp back to their base."

"Ah," said Oceanglide, nodding and considering his options. His energy reserves were no deeper than a rockpool. He couldn't afford to cause undue fuss.

_So, we stall._

"We really must come back as soon as it's safe," he said, dithering by a viewscreen. "After all we've lost – and after all this time – what lies in here may be the sum of all our records."

"I know. But we have to get out of here first. Maybe after the Decepticons have gone, the Autobots will bring us back and help us retrieve the data."

Oceanglide shot him a sharp look, but kept the disgust out of his voice when he spoke. "You would allow the safeguarding of our people's spark core to rest on the whim of… _Autobots_?"

Sparkplug paused, hesitated for a minute. He was obviously choosing his words carefully. "You, uh, really care about this, don't you?"

"I have had time and cause to think on it," said Oceanglide simply. "That's all. Once I might have had a personal interest in Minicon culture; now there is nothing left to take an interest in. But I know the worth of what lies in these databanks, and… it is _beyond_ mere personal interests."

Sparkplug turned to him and nodded slowly. "The Autobots haven't always helped us, but the ones here are trustworthy. I understand if you're nervous, but wait until you meet them before you make any decisions."

_My decision was made a long time ago. _"Perhaps you are right," Oceanglide agreed quietly, quelling the urge to remark that he had no desire to meet any Autobot unless it was posthumously.

Sparkplug smiled at him. It was meant to be reassuring, no doubt. The car-bot turned and led him onward. "Optimus Prime really does want to help us," he continued softly. "I mean, he doesn't always understand what we need, and he… he's not perfect. No-one is. But he's trying to help. And," he chuckled, "any protection's better than what the Decepticons are offering, right?"

Oceanglide chuckled. "Right."

Sparkplug started to go on, but he fell silent before the first beep was out. Oceanglide assumed he'd remembered that they were supposed to be escaping stealthily, but a couple of steps later his companion stopped, pressing against the databanks beside them.

Oceanglide leaned forward and looked over Sparkplug's shoulder. In front of them the databanks stopped, opening into a wide, roughly circular area. But this one hadn't been on the shipbuilders' plans. The shrapnel and the dust attested to that, and the ash hanging in the air. Above them whatever layers of rock and hull covered the library had been blasted through, and he could see clouds, and a low light – a weak sun, or a setting one? Dawn? It hardly mattered: the sight cheered him regardless.

_And this was recent, _he noticed with mounting excitement, feeling the heat from the blasted, slightly melted floor. _Recent, and my friend Sparkplug doesn't know who did it, hence his misgivings._

"What caused this?" he murmured uncertainly.

"We heard explosions before we came in," Sparkplug replied, head turning from side to side as he scanned the area. "This must have been it. Someone got in this way – the question is who…"

"And you're afraid they may lie in wait for us in the shadows across that spotlighted expanse?"

A brief pause, and the other Minicon answered, "Yes."

Oceanglide nodded thoughtfully. "Of course," he remarked, "they may just as well be behind us…"

Sparkplug glanced back involuntarily. He sighed. "I guess we just have to take our chances." He edged out of the databanks' shelter, then walked out, keeping to the edge.

Oceanglide followed in his wake, but veered closer to the centre of the sunlit ruins. The warmth radiating from the crater and the half-light from above washed pleasantly over the solar panels on his arms, rousing sluggish circuits and gently, slowly beginning to feed them.

Off to the left, he saw a movement and turned to look as a grey Minicon came out from the shelves. A heavily built car-bot, he thought, and carrying a rifle he didn't like the look of. The stranger noticed them, but kept scanning the area as he headed in their direction, pausing to check each space he passed. Behind him was a slightly smaller dark-coloured Minicon. He had mismatched optics and the prongs of a forklift alt-mode on his shoulders, and edged along nervously. The least likely threat of the three, Oceanglide decided.

Sparkplug went to meet them eagerly, throwing glances into the rows as he went. Oceanglide followed him a pace or two and thenhung back, enjoying the sunlight and wondering how far he could let this go. The dark Minicon glanced at him, then directed a delighted beep to Sparkplug, who nodded and said something about leaving. Oceanglide wasn't listening.

For the third Minicon recognised him. Oceanglide saw it as soon as the grey bot looked in his direction, in the orange flare of his optics and the way his rifle shifted towards him. Time to depart.

"Sparkplug!" The stranger started forward, swinging the gun up and getting their instant attention. Oceanglide stepped back to slip away through the shelves.

"Hold it there," snapped a new voice from behind him.

Oceanglide did. So did the other Minicons. That still left the rifle pointing in his direction. If the grey 'bot fired now, he'd probably lose most of his left shoulder.

He found that more discomfiting than the unknown person behind him. At least the latter was probably on his side.

Provided they know that…

"Scattor," said Sparkplug uncertainly. Oceanglide turned at the waist as much as he dared. There were three Minicons behind him, black and grey in the darkness: the one in the lead must be the one who'd spoken. The missile launchers they were carrying alone would put his team to shame.

_Well, yes, but no doubt they've upgrades since they woke,_ said part of his mind jealously. _And this is the Night Attack Team, for Cybertron's sake – even _Sparkplug_'s heard of them._

"We'll just be taking our… friend… here," Scattor said coolly. He gestured at Oceanglide. The Sea Minicon was quite annoyed at the leers that the others directed his way.

_I'm not some whimpering fence-sitter, you idiots, I _want_ to go with you. _Oceanglide sighed. He had to be patient. He relaxed his stance as much as he could, attempting to make it blatantly obvious that he was comfortable with this turn of events.

"He's not your friend," Sparkplug said sharply, "and he's not going anywhere he doesn't want to."

"I am not their friend _yet_," Oceanglide muttered, but Sparkplug's rifle-wielding friend was speaking up for him.

"Hold it." The grey mech shifted his laser rifle to train on vital circuits before Oceanglide realised he was moving. "You too," he called over to the Decepticon Minicons. "One twitch out of you and your trip is wasted." He nodded very slightly at the brown 'bot. "Along with him."

Sparkplug's optics flared as he looked towards him. "Rollbar, what-"

"That's Oceanglide," he said flatly. "Leader of the Sea Team? Cosy with the Decepticons since, uh… round the time they gave him those weapons, I'd say."

"What?" Oceanglide didn't see Sparkplug's expression this time: he was watching the rifle and wondering how fast Rollbar was.

"He's coming with us," said Scattor impatiently.

"I'm going with them," Oceanglide informed Sparkplug, spreading his arms helplessly.

"Like slag," snorted Rollbar. "We're not letting you loose."

"A noble sentiment," Oceanglide said flatly. Quickly. "If you don't mind burning this place to the ground."

Rollbar's gaze narrowed, and shifted. Now they noticed that his cannon-arm was aiming straight towards the main data banks. The jeep-former growled as Sparkplug held up a hand for him to hold.

"Wait a nanosec," he said quietly. "We don't have to do this."

"He's either bluffing or he's not," said Rollbar, sighting along his gun. His gaze flicked to Oceanglide for an instant. "Ninety-three to one he's not."

Sparkplug hesitated. "I don't think he'll shoot," he said quietly.

"I think I will," said Oceanglide.

Rollbar didn't alter his posture, but he gave a noise equivalent to a shrug. "It's your call, Sparky," he said quietly. Strangely quiet, Oceanglide thought, for someone whose opinion had been so strong a minute ago. He eyed the grey Minicon speculatively.

"But he's dangerous," said the forklift-bot. Surprisingly, he hadn't bolted yet.

"Yep. If you ask me, there's damn little difference between him and the rest of the gang back there," said Rollbar frankly. "Mainly that he's low on power right now."

"You don't understand," said Sparkplug. "I was talking to him and… look, he's not going to shoot the library. Don't you think he'd have done that by now?"

"Like I said, your call."

Their friend looked frantically between them, and Oceanglide, and the Night Attack Team behind. "I've heard of him. You're not going to trust him, are you?"

"Calm down, Liftor." Sparkplug was trying to soothe his friend, but he merely sounded strained.

"He's a psychopath!"

Oceanglide gave Liftor a mildly indignant glance. "I beg your pardon?"

"And like you said," Sparkplug said, glancing at Rollbar as he edged forward, "he's low on energy. He's just come out of stasis: he probably doesn't have enough to fire that and stay standing."

He was right, but it wouldn't save anyone. _I'm sure Scattor's team brought enough firepower for everybody, _Oceanglide thought. He was listening carefully to the sounds from the Night Attack Team. There'd been a series of small, metal noises that suggested some non-verbal communication was going on, and the Sea Minicon wished he could see what they were doing. At least he hadn't heard weapons charging - assuming they'd make a sound he could detect…

"He doesn't need to," came Scattor's low, amused snarl. Oceanglide straightened slightly, shield-panels tilting a little upward. The Night Attack Team's aggressiveness was legendary. He didn't know why they hadn't opened fire out of impatience, and he wasn't inclined to push his luck. He had to act soon. Before they decided losing him was an acceptable risk.

He heard Scattor take a few steps closer. The black Minicon moved with deathly silence for a missile with legs: he only picked out the sound because his audio sensors were straining that way. Rollbar looked past Oceanglide and twitched his rifle meaningfully. Scattor stopped.

"Oceanglide," Sparkplug said, still inching forward. He extended his hand. "You don't have to do this. You can come with us. We'll work something out. You'll be safe." The sunlight around them brightened as he spoke. Oceanglide dimmed his optics, absorbing the warmth, listening to the mechs in front and behind him shift expectantly.

A second later, he nodded to himself and looked up.

Oceanglide watched Sparkplug brighten and move towards him, the other Minicons uncertain. _So,_ he thought, _you think you understand me now. _

_Well, it's the prerogative of a poet to surprise his audience._

He flicked a sensor along his arm to check his aim, and fired.

* * *

Rollbar took another look around the mess, then dropped to crouch by his friend and slap a hand on the yellow 'bot's shoulder. "Look on the bright side, Sparky."

Sparkplug couldn't think of anyone else who could call him that without him minding. He looked up from where he was sitting among the wreckage.

"It was just a bunch of computers," Rollbar said, waving at the fresh spread of destruction caused by Oceanglide's circuit-searing shot. "It wasn't anything really important."

Sparkplug sighed. He appreciated the reassurance, but he had the distinct feeling that his friend wasn't taking the damage as seriously as it should be. "Rollbar…"

"It wasn't people," Rollbar interrupted, resolute in his assessment. "No-one got hurt, and that's what counts."

Sparkplug wasn't sure he agreed. He looked down again, at the tiny pieces of twisted metal scattered around his feet. "Oceanglide got away."

"Eh, I know his type. We'll run into him again, you can count on that."

"You'd have shot him."

"…Well, yeah." Rollbar hesitated again, and then added, "But you know me. Always did have more guts than sense."

Sparkplug blinked at him. "Liar."

Rollbar folded his arms and snorted at him. "Seriously, knock off the guilt. It ain't helping your case."

"Huh?"

Rollbar sighed. "You're gonna get enough people on your back about this." He glanced along to where Liftor was picking through the slagged remains of the databanks. "You've got to stand by your decision."

"Even though I screwed up?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Rollbar shrugged. He knew what he meant, and he was more sure of it than Sparkplug was.

Sparkplug wished he had that confidence. "I can't defend making the wrong choice."

"Like you were supposed to know it was?"

"I could have listened to you." He thought about that, while Rollbar said nothing. "You let me choose wrong," Sparkplug realised. His friend looked up sharply. "Not blaming you," he added quickly. "But you really thought I was wrong, and you didn't stop me."

Rollbar stopped scrutinising Sparkplug's face and dropped his gaze. "Yeah, well… it was up to you. Besides, you'd actually been talking to the guy, and you were pretty sure about it. I hear stuff, sure, but…

"Outta the two of us, Sparky, I'm the first to admit you're better at dealing with people. You read stuff plenty of us don't. Sometimes I've just got to get your back and trust you understand things better than me."

"Not this time, I didn't."

"Maybe you did." The grey 'bot shrugged. "Maybe just not enough."

Sparkplug nodded and looked back up through the crumbled roof at the darkening sky.After a minute, he said, "It wasn't just that, was it?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You were waiting to see, weren't you? What I'd do. Whether I'd be right. That's why you held back. You wanted to know how I'd do on my own." _I just don't understand why._

Rollbar laughed, but it didn't sound quite right. "Now you're reading too much into it."

Sparkplug just shook his head, not wanting to start an argument that wouldn't solve anything. He obviously didn't understand Oceanglide, but he knew Rollbar all too well.

_Wish I could live up to what you need from me._

* * *

It came as small surprise that the Minicon 'barracks' in the Decepticon base were little more than a storage closet. Oceanglide could make out the far wall even in the faint light: ideal for a submarine, maybe, but every base had a noisy claustrophobe.

"Dark, isn't it?" he noted, his dismay long-tempered by resignation, as he followed the Night Attack Team in. "How inconvenient."

Scattor gave a low chuckle, and Fetch sniggered loudly. Oceanglide mentally kicked himself, even as Broadside gave him a sly, sidelong look. "Ah, but we who know the darkness dwell in it with ease."

_Note: Broadside is to night as Waterlog is to sea._ Oceanglide inclined his head politely, and didn't point out the solar panels on his arms. "Quite."

There were only a few other Minicons in the room. One looked around as the group came in. She looked away quickly, but too late: Fetch was already bounding forward to pick a fight.

Oceanglide was distracted from the scene by Broadside suddenly tossing a cube of energon at him. He caught it and raised it briefly in thanks. Whether the blue Minicon noticed, he couldn't be sure. Broadside had disappeared into the gloom again before Oceanglide could find out where he'd got the cube from.

There was plenty of free wall-space to choose from. He retreated to a patch safely distant from Fetch and occupied himself with refuelling. Neither Stormcloud nor Waterlog was in view, and Oceanglide had already tried to contact them without success. It didn't matter: he could wait. They'd turn up here sooner or later, and expect each other to, out of habit, loyalty…

Fear of being captured. The thought made his optics brighten in amusement. Poor Sparkplug hadn't known, of course. After all they'd done, none of the Sea Team would find sanctuary with the Autobots, any more than with other Minicons…

"Oceanglide."

Scattor sounded almost thoughtful. Oceanglide looked around to find the black and white Minicon leaning against the wall. "I've heard of you," Scattor said, and regarded him a moment, lip curling. "He thought you wouldn't burn a few databanks?"

_Oh, that. _Oceanglide gave a relaxed shrug and chuckled. "Who knows what the poor fool thought?"

Scattor laughed shortly. Oceanglide returned his continuing scrutiny. He had attention to spare now, and he wondered more and more what the black and blue Minicon was thinking. Retrieving him for the Decepticons had probably been the Night Attack Team's mission, but their intervention had been conspicuously low-key. Oceanglide's curiosity was piqued.

He glanced over as Fetch's brawl-mongering increased in volume. Scattor followed his gaze.

"You have a team?" he asked. Which didn't make sense: if he knew Oceanglide, he must know the answer.

_Unless the question is 'are your team-mates living still'? And a fair question, I suppose…_

"At last check, yes," he confirmed.

"You going to say they're better-disciplined?"

"Yes."

Scattor's optic brightened. "Going to say they're tougher?"

Oceanglide's sensors flicked momentarily to Fetch. "Not until they get here."

Scattor laughed. The boat-former watched him and relaxed a little. It was a pity about Sparkplug, he thought, looking back at his energon, but he wasn't one to concern himself with what he'd lost. _Now I must turn my attention to learning what this one wants from me._

He chuckled to himself._ I think we're going to get on… swimmingly… up here._

From the far side of the room, there was a series of yells and a worrying clash of metal. Oceanglide didn't look around.

_Except for Fetch. He may be something of a rip current._


End file.
